Heart Shaped Wreckage
by arrow-through-my-writers-block
Summary: Oliver and Felicity are living in peace, Team Arrow no longer needed in Starling City. But when the League of Assassins come to recruit him only to be denied, they take Felicity instead, sending Oliver into a maddening race to save her before the League can dig their claws into everything he loves most about her. (established Olicity, AU set after season 2. I suck at summaries)
1. Don't wanna love anybody else

_Author's Note: This story just came to me. I have no idea what to do with it, or whether I'll continue, but I have the majority of it thought out. I feel like this might be a little intense for me to write... but if there's interest like there's been for my other major story, I may continue. So please review. _

_(This story came to me while listening to the song "Heart Shaped Wreckage" by Katherine McPhee and Jeremy Jordan. Damn that song.)_

_You are mine and I am yours._

They awoke in perfect bliss, wrapped in each others' arms with the sun streaking the sheets covering their naked bodies. The night before had been spent in nothing more than love-making; sighs and moans. They had repeatedly expressed the love they had recently been able to admit. They let the years of keeping themselves at safe distances rush away with each kiss and each touch, banishing their fears. Oliver hadn't felt so free. So alive. So in love. And he knew Felicity felt the same.

He stared into her eyes, admiring every aspect of her beauty. He had, for so long, ignored her appealing qualities. He had been much too afraid to admit he found her attractive. He had once told her he could never be with someone he truly cared for, but now with the early morning sun peeking through the blinds and drenching her blonde hair in golden light, he wondered how he had been able to remain serious and believable. All he had wanted was her, but he was unwilling to tell her the truth. He wondered how she hadn't been able to see through his cold facade.

Felicity blinked slowly, signaling to him in the cutest and most simple of ways that she wanted more affection. He pulled her closer and kissed the tip of her nose. She let out a small giggle that brouht a smile to his lips and he brought his hand down to the small of her back, forcing her body even closer. He felt her relax into him, and then felt her fingers trace shapes along the length of his spine. He glanced down to find her biting her lip, eyes closed. Quickly the desire that had filled their entire night returned in full force.

He leaned in and kissed her lips, gently at first, then with great force. She returned the intensity in equal measure, slowly bringing her hands down to parts of his body longing to be touched. He did the same, listening to her every sigh and moan. Soon he found her on top of his, her legs spread wide, welcoming him.

This bout of pleasure seemed to last an eternity, as the times before had. By the end, their bodies glistened with sweat and their hearts were beating rapidly. They collapse beside one another, snuggling into their pillows with their hands intertwined tightly. Oliver watched her doze off like a cat basking in the sun. He watched until she opened her eyes once more and grinned at his obvious obsession.

"What?" she asked, blushing slightly.

"You're beautiful."

"Shut up," Felicity whispered playfully.

"I'm serious," Oliver said. "I wish I had told you that before."

"I think you told me that enough last night, Oliver."

They chuckled and cuddled, their bodies warming from the closeness. He knew they had admitted, through their intimacy the words they'd so long kept unspoken. _But did we say them?_

He watched her sleep, nestled against his shoulder. He stroked her hair and admired its softness. When the silence felt too heavy and overwhelming, he shook her shoulder. "Felicity?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Slowly she lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes quickly filled with tears that never fell, and her smiled wide. "I've waited so long to hear you say those words," she said, followed by: "I didn't wanna say them first in case it made me seem desperate."

Oliver laughed, then touched her cheek. "So you feel the same?"

"Oh. Yes!" She shifted forward to kiss his lips lightly. "I love you, Oliver."

* * *

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. They cherished each moment they had, understanding the risks. Even as the city grew safer and safer, they remained cautious. They didn't trust the calm, believing it was signaling for a storm to begin. But nothing happened. No villains hatched plans of destruction. No criminals risked the wrath of the Green Arrow.

The time went on and they slowly relaxed. They spent each night together, rarely staying late at the lair. They went out on dates, enjoying the normalcy of being together out in the world for all to see. Eventually, Oliver moved into Felicity's home, the transition natural with all the time he spent there. He didn't miss the family mansion, which had been lost long ago along with his fortune. He had survived much worse than loss of money. With Felicity by his side, it didn't matter how much money he had. Even when he slowly began to gain his worth back and the family business came back under his name, their simple life together was all he cared about.

Within a year of their reliationship beginning, Team Arrow was no longer needed. The city was safe. The police force had all illegal activity under control, trusting the A.R.G.U.S. facility on Lian Yu would keep the most dangerous villains out of commission.

But all of them had forgotten one threat; one challenger to their peace.

The League of Assassins.

They came to Oliver and Felicity's home while they prepared dinner, enjoying the process of creating a dish from scratch. They didn't hear the door open, nor the collection of footsteps rushing through the living room and blocking their exits. They didn't notice the darkly clothed figures until one spoke, a deep voice shattering their domestic dream.

"Oliver Queen."

Oliver tensed, his heart stopping for a moment as he recognized the accent twisting the words. He turned to see the masked men standing straight and confident. "What are you doing here?" Oliver asked, stepping in front of Felicity protectively. She rested a hand on his shoulder.

"To collect you. We're in need of your skills. Ra's al Ghul longs for your loyalty. We must not fail him."

Oliver's hands clenched into fists and his jaw tightened. "I'm not joining the League."

The men remained stone still except for the one speaking. He stepped forward and pointed. "It's you or her, Oliver Queen."

Oliver turned slightly, looking behind him at Felicity. He felt all of his anger rush up and out. "She's not yours to take!" he exclaimed.

"If you don't go, we'll take what's keeping you here."

"I won't allow you to."

"So be it."

The Assassins had no weapons. They had come with the knowledge that Oliver had given up his role as the Green Arrow. They shifted into position for a fight. Oliver felt his heart sink. He stood no chance alone, but he had to try. _I'm not going with them and they're not taking Felicity. _

The leader crept forward and struck Oliver with a fist hard as stone. It had been so long since his last fight, and the blow struck him in the arm he used to shield his face. They exchanged a flurry of punches and kicks, remaining equals. Soon, more Assassins joined their leader, surrounding them. They stood in silent vigil, giving confidence to al Ghul's messenger. The fight continued on, with Oliver dealing and receiving punch after punch. Soon he was down, blood trickling from his lower lip. He glanced up and behind him, longing to see Felicity's supportive yet worried smile, but he found nothing. She was gone.

"Where is she?"

"Long gone."

"What'd you do?"

"Like I promised, we have taken what is keeping you here. Say good-bye to your lover, Oliver Queen. Soon she won't be the same."


	2. I can't fix this on my own

_I can't fix this on my own._

Oliver remained on the kitchen floor, tears streaking his face and mixing with the blood on his lips. A powerful ache coursed through his chest, making circuits around his heart. _Did she scream? How did I not hear her? How did I not notice?_

He replayed the encounter in his head, cursing himself for not remaining fit and practiced; he cursed himself for not remaining alert. But such things wouldn't bring Felicity back. She was in the hands of Ra's al Ghul. If she wasn't completely lost already, it would only be a matter of time. The thought brought on a new flood of tears. He closed his eyes and collapsed.

He didn't know how long he'd been there, curled up in a ball on the floor until he opened his eyes and saw that the once bright sunset-filled sky was dark, the only light being the streetlamps shining through the windows. He sat up and sighed, feeling that ache still, regardless of it dulling. Oliver propped himself up against the cabinet behind him, feeling the firmness of the wood against his stiff back. _Why didn't I keep training? Keep fighting...? _

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. For so long he had refrained from calling anyone in an emergency. Mainly due to the simple fact that there had been no emergencies to call about. He pressed the old speed-dial and listened to the automatic dialing, followed by John Diggle's name and photo popping up onto the screen. It took three rings before he picked up.

"This is Diggle."

"John," Oliver mumbled, his voice cracking on the name.

A brief silence met Oliver, followed by: "What's wrong?" Diggle's worried tone made Oliver lose composure. For a couple minutes he remained silent, sobbing into the phone. "Oliver, please... what happened?"

"She's gone."

"Who? Felicity? What do you mean?"

"They took her."

"Who?" Diggle asked.

Oliver breathed in deeply, trying to calm away his sobs. Slowly he spoke the words. "The League of Assassins."

* * *

They met in the old lair, finding it dusty and cold. All the equipment remained, untouched for months. Looming above them, the salmon ladder stood invitingly. Oliver remembered taking out his rage on the ladder, propelling himself up and down with the force of his strength. He doubted he could make it to the top now.

John sat in his old chair, frowning. He didn't come over to hug Oliver. He didn't offer kind words. He simply said: "How are we gonna get her back?"

"I don't know," Oliver replied, helplessly. He felt the way he had upon his mother's death. Empty. Useless. Cowardly. "If I had agreed to join the League, they would not have taken her."

"But then Felicity would be sitting right there in your shoes, wondering how to get _you_ back."

Oliver looked up, finding Diggle grinning in the smug way he always had. _He's right._

After a few minutes of silence, Diggle said: "How much do you know about the League, exactly?"

Oliver thought, digging up the memories from the island and the few details Sara had told him before she left with Nyssa. He shook his head. "Not enough to hunt them down," he mumbled. "Their location is unknown, members anonymous apart from Nyssa and Ra's al Ghul."

Diggle nodded. "Wouldn't Nyssa try to stop this whole thing? Doesn't she have a say?"

Oliver thought about it, recalling what he knew of Nyssa. "She might be Heir to the Demon, but that doesn't make her anything more than a soldier. Perhaps just one who is a little more trusted."

"Have you heard from Sara at all?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not since she left." He thought about Sara. They had so much history and so much connecting them, which made nothing add up. "Why wouldn't Sara warn me?"

"Maybe she didn't know," Diggle suggested. They shared a glance, knowing deep down that something was off. With a grunt, Diggle stood and walked over to the computers and carefully switched them on. Oliver winced, feeling the dull ache in his chest. The emptiness that had been forced upon him.

Seeing the monitors glowing and hearing the sound of electronic hums sent him into a new wave of grief. _These are hers..._

"Oliver," Diggle said, breaking him out of his agony. "We have a lot of research to do."

* * *

_Sorry for the short update after such a lengthy break. I just felt the need to update with something -anything- before really delving into all the stuff with Felicity and the League. Yes. This story is going to involve loads of Felicity inside the League. So stay tuned! _


	3. I can't find you in the dark

_I can't find you in the dark._

Felicity awoke to the sound of screams. For a small moment she mistook the screams for Oliver's, but then she realized that was impossible. _They killed him. They had to have killed him, _she thought with certainty. _They never would have been able to take me otherwise. _Then she understood. It had been a nightmare.

The stone floor was cold beneath her, and wet from trickling water falling through cracks in the ceiling. She shivered as she lifted herself up and took in her surroundings. _A prison cell... of course. _She looked around the small space, finding tiny barred sections along the floor. _Drains? _She found the only way in and out of the cell to be a thick metal door with no bars and no openings. The only sources of light came through a small gap between the door and floor, and a lengthy crack running across one stone wall. From the muted quality of the light, she could tell it was night. The air was thin, but she'd unknowling been breathing it in long enough for her body to adapt. _I must be at a higher elevation. _She sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"

She sat against one wall for what seemed an eternity, recounting her kidnapping. She knew they had knocked her out; there was no other way for her to have gone with them quietly. _Oliver..._

Her thoughts went to Oliver and everything she loved about him. She quickly found her eyes leaking tears, and they could not be stopped. She shook with the force of her tears and she wrapped her arms around her knees to hold herself together.

She was unsure how long she cried. It must have been hours. Suddenly an angry knock reverberated from the other side of the wall, followed by a voice that shouted: "Stop your sobbing. That won't help you here."

For a second Felicity contemplated yelling at her fellow prisoner. _Who are you to decide what will help me or not!? _But then recognition hit her. _Wait. I know that voice, _she thought, then spoke aloud. "Sara?"

Silence followed for a few minutes, then was broken by a laugh. A laugh filled with crazed hysteria. "Felicity Smoak?"

Felicity nodded at first, then remembered she was in a dark cell with thick stone walls. _She can't see you. _"Yes."

"What happened? Where's Oliver?"

Felicity's tears began once more, followed by hiccups that wouldn't cease. "Some Assassins... showed up at our home... demanding that Oliver... come with them... and Oliver refused... They... said they'd take... him or me. Oliver refused to... go. They began... to... fight," Felicity said, followed by one last hiccup before she spoke one last sentence: "That's all I remember."

She refrained from speaking her greatest fear, and Sara did not let the words ruin the quiet that stretched between them. Felicity wiped her face, then held her face in her hands.

"Felicity," Sara whispered, and Felicity removed her hands from her face, discovering a thick crack at the bottom of the wall between their cells. She saw Sara's hand reaching in, and she took it without hesitation. "Oliver is alive. I promise you. He's alive."

Their hands met and their icy fingers locked. New tears rushed down Felicity's cheeks and fell to mix with the moisture on the ground. "How can you be so sure?"

With an audible sigh, Sara said: "Because they plan to use you."

Felicity let that sink in for a moment, but her confusion got the better of her. "I'm not exactly well-versed in the rhetoric of the League, so please explain. What do they plan to use me for?"

Sara let out a cynical chuckle. "Felicity, there are only two outcomes I see to this whole thing. The first one would be that they plan to use you as bait to bring Oliver into the League." Sara hesitated with the next option, reminding Felicity of how careful she once was about sharing information. "The second one is a lot scarier, and will be the most tragic," Sara whispered with a sigh.

"What is it?" Felicity asked, feeling her heart pounding in her chest and echoing in her ears. _Do I really wanna know?_

"The second outcome would be that... well... They could be planning to train you as an assassin to kill Oliver for his unwillingness to join."

Felicity laughed, unable to control herself. "Yeah. Right. Like I'd ever do that." But her hands began to shake, and she knew deep down that the League would use whatever means necessary to force her into whatever fit their goal.

"Felicity, you have no idea what the League is capable of."

* * *

For hours Felicity and Sara spoke quietly with their faces pressed against the crack in the wall.

"What do you mean? How can something be wrong with the League. You're all assassins. I'd say there was already something wrong with it," Felicity chuckled at her observation.

"Felicity," Sara began, her voice full of seriousness and patience. "The League runs by a twisted code of honor. But... somehow things have gone wrong. I've never personally interacted with Ra's al Ghul, but a few months ago, he called Nyssa to him. She returned to me with news they were looking to recruit Oliver by whatever means necessary. She and I refused without hesitation. Once more, Nyssa was called to her father's side. I haven't seen her since." From the crack in the wall, Felicity could see an outline of Sara's face, and the pain she witnessed mirrored her own. "All I know is shortly after she left, I was forced into this cell and I've heard nothing of Nyssa."

"I'm sure she's not dead," Felicity whispered, attempting to feed Sara optimism in the same way Sara had to her. "Why would her own father kill her?"

"She openly opposed him, Felicity. That is not allowed within the League. If you don't carry out a mission or assassination, you're done."

* * *

Soon Sara fell asleep, leaving Felicity alone. Even with her friend on the other side of the wall, Felicity had never felt so alone in her life; even the experience of her father leaving paled in comparison to the blackness of her cell and the uncertainty of Oliver's fate. She knew she would never find rest or sleep.

Though sleep remained a stranger, she still dreamed. She dreamed of her last night with Oliver. She recalled their laughter, their kisses and their love-making. She recalled the wonderful feeling of her hands brushing across his muscles and the intense sensation of his fingers tracing her every curve. He knew what she loved, and vice versa. Their connection was more than simple sexuality. Love ruled every aspect of their lives.

_No wonder they took me._


	4. I don't know much, but I know myself - 1

_I don't know much, but I know myself_

Oliver watched Amanda Waller pacing, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. It had been a few minutes since he brought his situation to her attention. Beside him, Diggle was growing impatient. Oliver remained quiet and amiable, well aware that one wrong move would send Waller in the wrong direction; anything negative from them would result in negative from her.

Oliver took in Waller's office as he waited. It was pristine and in complete order. Everything had a place and nothing seemed unnecessary; no artwork hung on the walls and no photos rested on the desk. The walls and shelves were only decorated with medals and certificates from Waller's missions. Many of the medals weren't hers, but those of her fallen partners. These mementos gave Oliver a new understanding of Amanda Waller's abrasive demeanor. _She's lost many people as well..._

Finally, Waller cleared her throught and ceased her pacing. When she turned to look at Oliver and Diggle, they found her eyes filled with sympathy. "I feel for you, Oliver. I truly do," she began, her voice thick with emotion she was holding back. "I wish I could give you the help you need."

"You mean you can't help me at all?"

"I didn't say that, Oliver." For a few seconds, they stared at one another. Then she continued. "I can't send my teams against the League. I can't lose them. I can't send the Suicide Squad after them either. None of them would return, and villains like them are much too rare. They may be expendable, but I can't afford to hunt more of them down to replenish the team."

"Waller, we need something," Diggle shouted, his patience having run dry. Oliver held up a hand to silence his friend and was met with a whispered: "Oliver, this was a mistake."

"I understand that it is much too risky to send out your teams to help me rescue Felicity," Oliver began, his eyes resting on one medal in particular. It was paired with the only photograph in the room. A much younger Waller was standing next to a tall and handsome soldier. Both of them were in full uniform, but their smiles were bright and optimistic. The photo reminded him of the last year with Felicity. He sighed. "But I know you've lost many people as well. I know you've lost people close to you. Please, help me somehow. I'd be forever grateful."

Oliver and Amanda Waller locked eyes, and between them they exchanged their pain. It only took a few moments for Amanda to cave. "All right, Oliver," she said in a tone of surrender, something neither Oliver nor Diggle had ever heard from her. "All I'll promise is that we'll keep track of known assassins and keep a look out for new ones. It is likely they will use Felicity as a weapon, so it may be that she'll take on a few hits before going after you."

They thought sent a painful surge through Oliver. He closed his eyes to stifle the ache and saw Felicity's smiling face on the other side of his eyelids. If the League dug its teeth into Felicity, he'd lose everything he loved most about her: her innocence, charm and awkwardness. He opened his eyes and answered: "That's all I can hope for, Amanda. Thank you. Keep me updated, please."

Waller spoke no more, simply nodded and gestured for them to leave.

* * *

Felicity was curled into a ball, striving and failing to maintain any warmth she could against the cold floor. She was unsure how long she'd been left in the cell. Neither her nor Sara were sure of the date or even the hour; the darkness sucked out all knowledge of time.

She kept her eyes open. She feared the nightmares she'd see if she were to fall asleep. The nightmares never ceased. She was unsure how long it had been since she'd slept, but she knew she was heading into some strange of mental instability as a result. _How long can the mind survive without sleep before it deteriorates? _Felicity silently questioned, but those old facts and numbers eluded her. _Fuck. I'm losing everything. _Tears welled up in her eyes, burning. She shook her head quickly an blinked the moisture away. _I will not sleep. _

After days without food, water or sleep Felicity was beginning to lose her resolve. Sara repeatedly explained that this was one of the League's torture tactics. Get the prisoner as weak as possible before attempting conversion. As strong as Felicity often felt, she feared she'd lose her personal fight against the League.

Suddenly the silence was interrupted by one heavy pair of boots stopping in front of her door, followed by the clink of metal keys colliding against one another. _Shouldn't assassins be more quiet?_

The sound awakened Sara, and her voice rang out from next door. "Don't take her! Take me! End my misery!"

"Shut up, traitor. You'll have your turn. The Demon's Head has his own plans for you. Right now he has need of Miss Smoak."

"She's useless. What need could he have for her?"

"I said shut up. You are no longer Ta-er al-Asfer."

Sara grew quiet at the name, and Felicity knew that part of her identity had been stolen from her. She worried for Sara, but she knew that her first priority was fighting for herself. She stood ready for the door to open, her fists clenched into fists.

With a creak, the door opened to reveal an assassin in black garb holding a flaming torch. The sudden light blinded Felicity, but she quickly blinked the pain away and stood strong in the face of the man. He inched into the cell and grabbed for Felicity's arm. She dug into her memory for what little self-defense she had learned from Diggle and tried to evade the grasp by force. The assassin was well-trained and stopped Felicity with very little effort. He overcame her struggles and was soon leading her out of the cell and down a dank stone hallway lined with dozens of cells.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked after a few minutes.

"The Demon's Head."

It only took a few more minutes to come upon a set of giant wooden doors carved with terrifying scenes. Looks like it's straight out of Dante's Inferno...

The doors opened as if on their own and she was pushed into a great hall filled with roaring braziers. Tapestries covered the walls, depicting the same sort of scenes as the doors. Shadows filled each corner, dressed in dark robes and well-armed.

At the end of the room sat a commanding figure on a exquisite throne fashioned in the shape of a giant, howling demon. The figure tapped it's fingers impatiently, which signaled her captor to push her forward abruptly. The figure on the throne was dressed much the same as the other assassins, but his face was hidden by a deep hood. From the depths of the fabric, a coarse voice spoke.

"You are Felicity Smoak."

Without hesitation, she nodded.

"Soon you will not be."

* * *

_Author's Note: I didn't expect to update twice within one 24 hour period, and certainly not so close together, but I felt the need to keep going. Getting you guys closer to the truth about Ra's al Ghul and Nyssa's disappearance is important to me. Please review and leave me any feedback you'd like. I'd love to know how you guys are feeling about this story. Thanks! _


	5. I don't know much, but I know myself - 2

_I don't know much, but I know myself_

_Part Two_

"You can't change who I am!" Felicity shouted, feeling a strange sense of courage in the presence of Ra's al Ghul. _This can't be normal._

Her thoughts were confirmed when the many shadows standing about gasped and whispered amongst themselves. In front of her, the figure on the throne let out a coarse, booming laugh that echoed throughout the hall. His hood shook with each burst of laughter and threatened to slip. But the man soon quieted and all at once grew completely still; so still he could have been a statue. Then he spoke.

"Oh, sweet Felicity. You don't understand what you're up against," he said, and the room filled with chuckles from the other assassins. "If you resist, we'll break you. Isn't that right?" He gestured to the room, and every shadow lifted a fist and chanted.

"Yes, Great Sensei!"

She knew very little about Ra's al Ghul or the League, but she'd never heard the name Sensei used for him. He was a great master and teacher of the skills his organization was most famous for, but he was the Demon's Head. A title much more iconic and important than that of a sensei.

"As you can see, Felicity, it is most advantageous to submit to your fate than resist. Being a part of this family is an honor. Right?"

"Yes, Great Sensei!"

"I want to go home," Felicity whimpered. Her hands were shaking, and every bit of courage she felt moments before trickled away into hiding deep within her. She felt weak and alone.

"This is your home now, child."

* * *

They took her to a dining hall and allowed her a simple meal of stew and a large mug of hot green tea. She cherished every slurp of the stew and sip of the tea, feeling her stomach expand after so long without sustenance. Once she emptied both, they took her back to her cell. Before closing the door, they tossed in a crude waterskin. "Thank you," she whispered.

Once the sound of their footsteps were gone, Sara spoke up. "What happened? Tell me everything."

Felicity recalled every moment of her audience with Ra's al Ghul, finishing with the strange name and chant. "What does that mean?"

"Oh god," Sara mumbled, her voice stricken with sobs almost instantly. "That was not Ra's al Ghul, Felicity."

"What do you mean? They said they were taking me to the Demon's Head. How could it not be Ra's?"

It took a few minutes for Sara to compose herself. "That name, Sensei, is cursed among the League. It is not one to be praised or followed. Ra's al Ghul would never fashion himself as such a man. Which leaves only one answer." She let the tension hang in the air, as if for dramatic effect. "The villainous Sensei is back."

* * *

On the sparring mats, Oliver parried every blow Diggle sent his way. It gave him confidence that he was able to keep up after such a length of time without practice. He was getting back into shape; he no longer felt sluggish or out-of-breath during their sparring, and he could almost make it to the top of the salmon ladder with ease. _All I need to do now is find her... _

"All right, Oliver," Diggle said through gritted teeth as he threw out one last attack. "I think we're done for the day."

"Not getting tired, are you?"

Diggle sighed as he wiped his forehead with a towel. "Not by a long-shot. However, I do have a kid at home waiting for me."

Oliver nodded. "Right. Enjoy the rest of your night, Digg."

As Diggle slipped into his coat, he turned back to Oliver. They locked eyes for a few moments and Oliver made an effort to seem chipper. _Do I even know how to be chipper? What does chipper even look like? _He felt his lips spread into a smile and he hoped he was convincing.

He clearly wasn't.

"Are you gonna be okay here, Oliver?"

Oliver nodded, turning to eye the makeshift bed he hadn't used in over a year. "Of course," he said as he turned to face his friend once more. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Diggle grinned half-heartedly. "I know this is hard. Please, just try to be patient."

"I know. I'm trying," Oliver answered, finally letting himself tell the truth. "Have a good night, Digg."

He waited for Diggle to leave before he hopped up to grasp the bar of the salmon ladder. He let himself hang there for a few moments, then propelled himself up. With each clang of the bar against the rungs, he recalled glimpses of Felicity eyeing him; some of the glances were of fascination and others were of lust. He cherished each one. At the rung just before the top, he imagined Felicity in bed. Her blonde hair was spread out around her atop the satin sheets. She bit her bottom lip as she stifled a moan, but she never broke his gaze. She reached up for a kiss and suddenly Oliver was falling.

His hands lost their grasp on the bar and he fell through the air, quickly landing on the sparring mats below. His back ached and his arms spasmed. Distracted by the daydream, he must have stayed in one rung too long without moving. His palms were slick with sweat.

He stared at the ceiling, recalling a time when he and Felicity had cuddled next to one another on those same mats, naked and sweating. He remembered the tear trickling from the corner of her eye. He had wiped it away with his thumb, then kissed her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" he had asked, concern brushing away his joy.

"I'm just so happy," she had answered, followed by a laugh. He had watched her smile fade as seriousness filled her expressions. "I'm just so happy to finally be yours."

The memory of their first time together sent a wave of grief over Oliver. He was unprepared for the sensation. He continued to stare up at the ceiling through tear filled eyes. "And I'm so happy to be yours..."

* * *

_Author's Note: Once again, another update within the same 24 hour period. Oh my! I hope you liked this chapter and are piecing together the truth behind the League. If you know who has taken over as the Demon's Head, please write about it in your review. I hope I'm doing the League justice. And I hope you're enjoying this story. Please review with feedback. I'd love suggestions or just simple comments. Thanks for reading!_


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